And All That Jazz
by FatPatricia515
Summary: Very AU- 1940's Chicago Speakeasy. Beca wants to be a performer, her father doesn't approve.
1. To New Friends

**Chapter 1**

**New Friends**

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**_A/N- So I decided to try another story and this one is very AU. Let me know what you all think of this idea._**

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_1940's Chicago_

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Beca Mitchell saunters down the street, her heels clicking against the pavement making a haunting staccato rhythm that echos off the tall brick buildings of Chicago. She clutches her coat tightly against her body fighting against the chilly night air. She's tired, cold and heartbroken. Her father had promised her she could be the headliner at his new nightclub, and now, one week before opening, he _changes his mind_ and callously brushes her dreams aside. He tries to placate her with promises of his _next_ nightclub, saying this one became_ too dangerous_ for her to work in.

Beca Mitchell was nobody's fool, she knew the type of business her father was in, but he had never indicated she was in any danger before. She wondered what had changed. Her curiousity at the turn in events didn't outweigh her hurt of her father's broken promise.

The streetlights are just beginning to flicker on as she hears the strains of laughter and the tinkling of a piano. A brightly colored and newly painted, sign above the door announces that Beca has found her way to the entrance of _Bella's on Barden_. Without any hesitation Beca squares her shoulders and steps over the threshold.

If her father wouldn't let her perform at his club then she would find somewhere else to perform, somewhere she would be appreciated, she was talented enough to get a job on her own merits.

Inside the tinkling of the piano can now be heard along with a full band accompaniment, bringing a smile to Beca's face. The patrons are a mix of sailors on leave; couples having a night on the town and a few society patrons often caught carousing every night of the week. Not a bad turn out for a Tuesday night Beca thought.

After her eyes adjusted to the dim light and cigarette smoke in the club Beca was able to take in the decor; crescent booths of ivory leather wrap around the t-shaped stage. The tables are dotted with red glass votive candles making the large room seem more intimate and white dahlias in hand painted vase frame the entryway.

On stage a tall, leggy brunette is under the spotlight, she is wearing a floor length red sequined gown, her long hair coiffed in finger waves cascading over one eye and she is caressing the mic in a way so intimate that Beca's cheeks begin to flush.

_My mama done tol' me when I was in pigtails  
my mama done tol' me, "Son  
A man will sweet talk and give ya the big eye  
But when the sweet talkin's done_

_A man's a two-face_

_A worrisome thing who'll leave ya to sing_

_the blues in the night"_

"Take your coat?"

A bright-eyed, coat check girl pulled Beca from her revelry, "Take your coat miss?"

"Ah, yeah, here you go," Beca hands her wool trench absently to the smiley girl revealing her flared polka dot dress. She wanders into the main dining room to better enjoy the entertainment, her feet skittering so quickly across the floor that her heels don't leave any indents in the carpet. Making her way to one of the crescent-shaped booths and sliding into a seat, the fabric of the booth is somehow sophisticated and cheap at the same time making a soft squish and depresses under her lithe frame as she scoots and shimies her way to center of the booth.

Beca orders a daiquiri from the menu, knowing her father wouldn't approve, making Beca smile even more broadly. He didn't like her to drink, said it wasn't _dignified_. He also said she could be a headliner, turns out that she doesn't care about anything her father says any more.

_Now the rain's a-fallin'_

_Hear the train's a callin', whooee  
my mama done tol' me_  
_Hear dat lonesome whistle  
Blowin' 'cross the trestle, whooee!_

_My mama done tol' me, a-whooee-ah-whooee  
Ol' clickety-clack's a-echoin'  
Back th' blues in the night  
The evenin' breeze'll start the trees to cryin'  
And the moon'll hide it's light  
When you get the blues in the night_

_Take my word, the mockingbird'll sing  
the saddest kind o' song  
He knows things are wrong  
And he's right_

The brunette torch singer sashays across the stage towards the piano, the spotlight trails behind her, as she drapes herself across it leaning into the curve of the white baby grand and dipping in place. Not content to stand still now that she was on the move, the singer provocatively sidles along side the piano player and his bench revealing a vast expanse of her leg via a scandalously high slit on the side of her dress.

Beca hadn't properly noticed the piano player before, being too focused on the hypnotic diva, his hands are tinkling across the keys, the muscles in his forearms taunt and tan and are displayed nicely in the white dress shirt that has been rolled to his elbows. Something about the lines of his shoulders and the defined musculature of his back fills Beca with familiarity and need, something she isn't so sure she wants to feel. The singer nuzzles the piano player and smirks at his knowing grin before starting the final refrain of the song. The scene suddenly makes Beca's throat go dry and she takes a long sip of her drink, letting the cool alcohol quench her thirst and warm her insides.

_From Natchez to Mobile, from Memphis to St. Joe  
Wherever the four winds blow  
I been in some big towns an' heard me some big talk  
But there is one thing I know_

_A man's a two-face _(She dips her head and kisses the piano player on the cheek before returning to center stage)_  
A worrisome thing who'll leave ya to sing  
the blues in the night_

Beca felt her skin tingle, this woman is very comfortable in front of a crowd, not just singing but really baring her soul. Despite her obvious pain, Beca would give anything to trade places with her , to be center stage, giving herself to the audience and moving them with her song.

The singer smiles winningly to the round of applause and softly counts to three while she rocks a hip and begins her next number.

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Aubrey Posen, club owner, strides thru the dining room of her club. Her blue eyes take on a laser like focus, she narrowly avoids knocking over not one but two waitresses carrying drinks. She whirls towards Beca in flurry of platinum hair and green chiffon.

"You need to leave, now." Aubrey pokes a perfectly manicured red nail into Beca's shoulder, to accentuate her point.

* * *

"Excuse me?" Beca stands up from the table raising herself to her full height, still several inches shorter than the icy blond, not that she ever allowed herself to be intimidated by others height advantage, she would be forever cowering if that was the case, Beca Mitchell wasn't afraid of anyone. She knew all about bullies, and the first rule was to not back down.

"I'm the proprietor of this establishment and I will not be threatened by the likes of you or your father. I worked too hard and have already lost too much."

"I think you're confused, I'm not threatening anyone, I'm just having a drink and enjoying the show. You shouldn't scowl like that you'll get frown lines."

"Don't play dumb, it insults us both. I think it's best if you leave, now." Aubrey's toned was hushed but steely leaving no room for misunderstanding. She didn't want a scene and she didn't like Beca's father and by extension Beca herself.

Beca continued to stare at her with her arms crossed and eyes blazing. Why did everything always have to come back to her father? No point in pretending she didn't know _why_ someone might have a problem with who her father was. Although she was still uncertain whether or not this woman _had_ in fact been threatened.

Beca didn't want to give in too easily, but did she want to make a scene? No, she really didn't. Instead she shook her head and slowly lifted her glass to her mouth draining the rest of her daiquiri before leaving the table without a word. She wasn't even sure who she was more angry with, the ice queen or her father.

Beca kept her facade of calm and collected in place until after she handed the coat check girl her ticket. Leaning against the counter and exhaling a shaky breath as she waited for her coat. Her mind drifted back to the argument she had with her father earlier in the evening. After the way she stormed out of his office it was too early to return home without looking like she had rolled over and forgiven him, sadly she realized she had no place to go tonight.

"Don't mind Aubrey, she's a bit uptight", Beca jumped. She hadn't noticed anyone come up next to her, let alone the buxom blond at the counter, her loud booming voice pulling her attention back, "She hasn't been laid since her fiancé died in the war. It would make any girl irritable."

"Thanks," Beca let out a soft chuckle and extended her hand, "the name's Beca, Beca Mitchell."

"Patty, Patty West. Although if any of the fellows at the bar is looking for me its Amy," she gave Beca a wink and a roll of her shoulder, "girl's gotta have her secrets."

Beca let out a real laugh like she hadn't in years. She liked this woman, Patty or Amy or whatever her name was.

It had been forever since she had spent time with anyone outside of her father's _approved associates_. Patty was swimming in sequins and marabou feathers with the overwhelming smell of rose-water and gin encircling her. While Beca didn't want to make assumptions she would guess that Patty West was a 'good time gal'. Her father wouldn't approve of Patty West. That however, only added to Patty's appeal.

"Come on follow me short stuff I know where the real action is," Patty gave Beca a playful grin and lead her down the street. What the hell, thought Beca with a shrug. I didn't have anywhere else to go.

* * *

"Seriously? The Boom Boom Room?!" Beca's eyebrows met her hairline and she tried not to sputter.

"Ah Skinny I didn't have you pegged as a prude. C'mon I'm good friends with the bartender so drinks are on me." Beca sighed loudly, she could use another drink, so she let Patty guide her through a dimly lit foyer and down cavernous steps. The smell of dirt and old beer filled her nostrils and smoke stung her eyes.

Where Bella's had been intimate and tasteful the Boom Boom Room was tawdry and decadent and crowded. Green Tiffany lamps hung low over booths of red velvet divided by walnut or mahogany dividers. Women in short kimonos and hair styled in tight buns flitted across the room carrying trays of drinks.

While the atmosphere wasn't that of the type of places Beca normally frequented it became obvious that this was a second home to Patty West. She glided from person to person like they were all her old friends greeting them with familiarity and warmth. She seated herself at the bar and motioned Beca over from the entrance where she was still rooted to the floor. "Ahh! Skinny come on I promise the seats are clean," she patted the stool next to her invitingly.

Beca allowed herself to smile and relax, there was nothing to worry about and tried to hop up on the stool as elegantly as possible, if one can actually hop elegantly.

"Beca, this is my good friend Donald," Patty motioned to the Indian man behind the counter and smiled, "Donny this little thing is my new friend, Beca."

Beca started to reply but was cut off by Patty leaning across the bar to open mouth kiss another man who was behind the bar, while he was still slightly dazed from the kiss Patty hit him upside the head and yelled, "Don't let me catch you looking at other girls again." The man's face showed a slight scowl and then relaxed and stuck his hand out to Beca. "Nice to meet you, I'm John, Patty's husband."

"Now that all the introductions are done, Donny be a love and fix us something to drink."

Donald smiled and bowed his head, clearly he was used to the blonde's sense of humor and placed two old fashions in front of the women.

Beca raised her glass and toasted Patty, "To new friends."

"To new friends!"


	2. Show me the Way to Go Home

**A/N- So thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed, who followed and favorited, you all gave me the ****motivation and confidence to move forward with this story. Additionally I am looking for a Beta if anyone was is interested ****please message me.**

**Disclaimer- (I forgot to put this on last chapter) All characters from Pitch Perfect belong to Kay Cannon and ****not me. Not even a little bit. Also all songs and movies referenced are not mine either. Last Chapter - Blues in the Night ****can be found on itunes under Ella Fitzgerald, its a great version.**

**Chapter 2**

**Show Me the Way to Go Home**

"Thank you all for coming out tonight you have been too kind, don't forget to tip your waitresses", with a wink and a wave the leggy brunette torch singer exited stage left, the house lights extinguishing in her wake.

The spell the siren had cast over the patrons now broken they lazily rose from the tables, settling tabs and stumbling into the cold streets toward home with the nearest warm body.

The once bright and friendly room now dark and devoid of life; Aubrey Posen let out a breath she had been holding and collapsed into a dark wood chair behind the bar. Her small makeshift desk area chosen for its lake of stickiness.

Three months…it had only been three months since the war took not only her present happiness, but her future as well. Her father died of 'unnatural causes' and her fiancé died of a bullet to the chest, the only thing making the one death more natural than the other was the location. Tom, her fiancée, was stationed in France. They were supposed to get married in the spring, have a little house with honeysuckle and poppies lining the walk. They were supposed to grow old together.

The pressure in Aubrey's eyes swelled and she swallowed hard to suppress the feelings of anguish back down to be revisited at a more appropriate time. Or at least a time when she wouldn't be judged for smelling the cologne she sprayed on Tom's old shirt as she clung to it in her sleep.

She exhaled softly, expelling the air from her lungs and with it all her vulnerability, when she inhaled her next breath her carefully crafted façade was neatly in place. A mask of porcelain, perfect and fragile, Aubrey didn't have time to be anything less. She craned her neck and began looking over the figures for the club, "looks like its gonna be another long night," she muttered softly to herself and continued the bookkeeping.

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"Patty? Patty! There you are! Why didn't you stay until I finished my set?" a voice yelled across the crowded bar.

"Oi Legs! Come here we got a new friend!"

Beca pivoted on her barstool, she was several drinks in and feeling much more comfortable in her environment. She recognized the woman crossing towards her as the singer from Bella's. She was no longer wearing the sequined gown she wore on stage but a white and red polka dot dress that somehow still clung to her figure despite its voluminous design. Beca looked back down at her own polka-dot dress and felt the difference in her appearance from that of the torch singers acutely.

"Legs this is our new friend Beca," Patty motioned towards the tiny woman on the stool.

"Skinny this is Stacey she sings over at Bella's and a couple other places too," Stacey extended a well-manicured hand and shook Beca's hand warmly. "Well any friend of Patty's is a friend of Patty's," Stacey's voice tinkled like bells as she laughed and ordered 'a usual' from the bartender waiting only moments for a martini with two olives to be placed in front of her.

Beca envied everything about this woman, her confidence, her career, all of these people were already her very good friends, for some reason Stacey seemed to rile all of Beca's insecurities up from hiding.

"So Legs? Hollywood come with you?"

"He should be right behind me," Stacey gestured over her shoulder towards the door with martini in hand.

As if her voice had summoned him, the piano player from Bella's appeared in the doorway. Like Stacey he had changed his clothes as well. Now dressed sharply in a smart grey flannel suit and fedora he greeted the room, as Patty had, like a homecoming, he glad-handed the fellows and winked at the gals. His smile lit up his whole face. The lines of his mouth, the quirk of his eyebrows, the bob of his Adam's apple as he loudly guffawed at another patron, she was in a trance. This man was fascinating her in a way others hadn't. He was attractive of course,but many men were, but there was something about the way he walked and carried himself, he was… exciting. Beca didn't realize she had been staring until his gaze landed on hers and didn't let go. Deep chocolate eyes that saw into the depths of her soul and heated her from the inside out gazed at her and pinned her to her stool.

He was coming towards her, slow, deliberate, like a lion stalking its prey. Beca felt her stomach flip-flop and her hands started to sweat. Just as he was almost too her, he turned and embraced 'leggy Stacey' she wanted to disappear right then. Beca turned back towards the bar and downed the rest of her drink in one gulp letting the burn of the alcohol sooth her and motioned for Donald to bring her another old fashioned. Donald quirked an eyebrow as if to ask if she was sure, Beca nodded and waved him on again so he set a fresh drink in front of her.

"Hey Hollywood! Come meet our new friend," Patty brought him to her in a tremendous bear hug and then slid of her stool to better introduce her friends but he dropped to his knee in front of her with a great flourish and chuckled," Patty darling when are you going to leave John and run away with me to California? Lets leave all this behind." He cast his arms out wide to indicate their surroundings.

Patty didn't seem surprised in the least by his theatrics, maybe that's why she called him Hollywood?

"Jesse this is our new friend Skinny, and Beca this is our Mr. Hollywood." Patty tickled Jesse's face with her feather boa before she turned her back and headed off towards another group, he got several feathers stuck on his tongue from the encounter. He didn't look upset though merely amused.

He grasped Beca's outstretched hand and sandwiched it between both his own, he smiled softly then brought her hand to mouth and kissed it lightly, "The pleasure is all mine Beca." His eyes sparkled of mischief and his touched warmed Beca in a way whiskey never had.

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"_Show me the way to go home! Just the women!_" Beca's voice rang out loudly and drunkenly in the quiet of the darkened living room. "_I'm tired and I want to go to bed, see I had a little drink about an hour ago and it went straight to my head_, Shh! We'll wake people up Donny," Beca giggled and stumbled into the coffee table.

Donald tried to sit Beca on the couch but it was taking some effort to remove her arms from his neck. With a loud tumble Beca dropped on the rug breaking into another fit of giggles. Donald sighed and found himself looking at Beca as one does a child they are indulging, "Come on Becky lets get you some sleep."

"NO! Not Becky! Never Becky!" Beca's outburst seemed to both sober her and stun Donald.

His hands raised in defense Donald conceded the point, "ok, okay, never Becky. Beca?" her eyes raised to him and her face wore a lopsided grin, her indignation not even a mar on her face. "Yes Donny?" she cooed and then collapsed into another fit of giggles.

Several muttered curses and two wrong doors later Donald had Beca in her room. "Such a little firecracker," he shook his head and left into the night wondering how he was the one who ended up with babysitting duty that evening.

* * *

Hours later Aubrey's head was pressed firmly into the hardwood of her desk her rhythmic snoring the only soundtrack for the evening until bright whistling roused her from her dreamless sleep.

_Would you like to swing on a star?_

_Carry moonbeams home in a jar,_

_And be better off than you are? _

_You could be swinging on a star_

"Jesus Jesse! How are you so chipper at", her voice think from sleep as she groggily looked at the clock at the wall, "3 o'clock in the morning?"

"Aubs? Do you believe in love at first site?" He sighed wistfully and crossed his ankles while leaning against the doorframe.

Aubrey dropped her head in her hands pulling them thru her hair with a huff, "Jess," her tone was patronizing, "we've been over this before, Katherine Hepburn is _not_ available."

"Ha, ha, ha," he gripped his side in mock laughter and glared, "no, not Hepburn Aubs. Seriously, I'm positive I'm in love." He exhaled a long sigh the moony expression once again adorning his face as he saunters to Aubrey's position behind the bar.

Aubrey rolls her eyes at his answer. Jesse 'fell in love' once a week at least.

Jesse softly chuckled and leaned over Aubrey and wiped the drool off one of the bar receipts, "So how are we doing this month?"

"Ugh, not good, another few months like this and Mitchell imposing his 'protection' tax and we're going to have to close up shop." Aubrey's voice grew softer and less confident and she turned to the man next to her, "Jess we can't pay ourselves again this month… we might loose the house." Her lip trembled but she held firm.

"Hey, it's gonna be ok sis," he soothingly ran his hands up and down her arms, "it's gonna be ok."


End file.
